While the M.O. - two big burly English blokes fuelled by righteous anger rapping/drumming over backing tracks - screams "Sleaford Mods", Big Special are very much their own bag of mad ferrets.

"The disco is now open!" pronounces Joe Hicklin, a big bear of a man who machine guns his words out and gets extra marks for sporting a Lankum t-shirt.

What separates Big Special from the manic street preacher competition is their wit, twin pop and funk sensibilities and Hicklin's unexpectedly rich singing voice which is equal parts Lee Hazelwood, Alex Kapranos and Iggy Pop.

All of these different elements coalesce perfectly on 'Shithouse', a station of the fucked up nation address which allows Hicklin to bust out his baritone while what sounds suspiciously like the intro to Queen's 'Radio Gaga' shimmers away in the background.

'Black Horse/White Dog' suggests a fondness for spaghetti western soundtracks while ‘Dig!’ has a mass singalong chorus that the Gallagher brothers would both kill for.

The best single you probably didn't hear last year, 'Trees' starts off with some seriously dextrous wordplay and gradually builds towards its Rage Against The Machine-y climax.

Band of the festival? There's a lot of competition but Big Special get my vote.

There's also a huge crowd in Huize Maas for Personal Trainer, the Amsterdam outfit fronted by Willem Smit who's a bit of a hero around these parts - and rightly so.

Their frenetic everything including the kitchen-sink approach is redolent of Funeral-era Arcade Fire with a bit of No Wave punk funk thrown in for extremely good measure.

The hyperactive percussionist puts in a shift and a half, as does the sax-player who's probably in need of an oxygen tent afterwards.

Out now on Bella Union, Personal Trainer’s Still Willing album is a must-listen.

I've also taken a shine to Someone Who Isn't Me, an Athens electro pop duo who sound like they're about to burst into the Doctor Who theme any moment.

If this wasn't enough to endear Loo and Maria to me, there are also nods to the Pet Shop Boys, OMD, Giorgio Moroder and the Queen of Glacially Cool '70s Disco, Amanda Lear.

Having been the driving force behind The Strypes and subsequently toured and recorded with Paul Weller, it's curious that Josh McCrory is now in a band who desperately want to be the new McFly.

Soft Launch definitely have the looks, the musical chops - the four guys out front all take turns singing as well as playing their guitars - and an abundance of teenager-friendly anthems like 'Milkshakes' and 'Limousine'.

Obviously, I'm not the target market but to these ears it's all a bit too safe and calculated with the rough edges that McCrory previously revelled in now surgically removed.

'I Wouldn't Get Your Hopes Up' is only four stools on stage short of being Westlife, although to be fair the harmonies on it and the following 'Catholic Guilt' are pretty darn spectacular.

The latter - sample lyric: “Crucified myself on Friday/ Sunday you have chocolate eggs/ Talking out your arse so tightly/ Legal highs and boring sex” - is one of the few songs with a rebellious streak and suggests a degree of subversion within the line-up.

MTV has just picked Soft Launch as one of their Push 2025 artists, though, so maybe the masterplan is working

Kneecap aren't the only band with a masked man in their ranks, although the MRFY keys player wearing a pair of thick rimmed glasses over his somewhat diminishes the sense of menace.

Fronted by a singer who takes a picture of a mullet-ed Bono of the barbers, the Slovenians are prog rock in places, Britpop in others and have a song called 'All My Friends Are Dead' which is actually one of the most joyous things I hear all night.

A rigorous round of speed gigging also affords Hot Press glimpses of Soft Loft, a Swiss band whose 'A Rose Coloured House' is indie pop at its most charming; Scottish wiz Jakob Alon who killed it before Christmas on Later… With Jools Holland and for once actually deserves the Nick Drake and Jeff Buckley comparisons; and Chloe Slater, the Bournemouth breakout artist who comes on like a more political Wolf Alice and is going to be huge.

Sadly, that's where our Eurosonic 2025 adventure must end. Another brilliant three days of music, the odd beer and praying to the rock 'n' roll gods that I'll be back in Groningen again next year.